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Ignited by passion,
words fuel the fire
simmering in my mind
until, like popcorn, they
explode into verse.

The reader may not know
the color of the original kernel,
how my fire changed it, or
how much seasoning it took.

They probably don’t even care
if I made a cinquan or rondeau,
or if it’s full of iambs or spondees.

But, like all chefs, I hone my knife,
tenderly slice into the finished dish
and serve it with my complements.

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